Sunflower
by AlElizabeth
Summary: AU Sam committed a terrible crime and now must pay the price. WARNING: Themes of murder and mental illness.


"Hello Sam," the bearded doctor held his hand out to the young man to shake.

Sam did not reply, did not move. His eyes roved, however, around the sterile, pastel-coloured walls of the lobby.

"I'm Dr. Shurley," he continued, "But you can call me Chuck."

Sam nodded distractedly.

Dr. Shurley looked behind Sam, at the two policemen who had brought the young man inside.

"I can take it from here, Officers," he told them.

They nodded, one tipping his hat to the receptionist behind her massive desk as they turned, and left.

Chuck turned his attention back to Sam.

"I've read your file Sam," he told the young man and motioned for him to follow as he started to walk deeper into the building, down a hallway that smelled of bleach and antiseptic.

"And I just want you to know that you're not here to be punished," Dr. Shurley continued, "This isn't a prison, you're not a prisoner; you are here to get help."

Sam nodded, not really paying attention to what the doctor was saying.

"This is a place for new beginnings, fresh starts," Dr. Shurley stopped at a metal door painted a dull beige with a keypad beside it, "We want you to move away from the past, put it behind you and look to the future."

The doctor typed a series of numbers into the keypad and there was a click as the door unlocked. Chuck motioned for Sam to step inside. He did and the doctor followed him. Only once the door had closed behind them did Sam speak.

"If you read my file, then you'd know I don't have a future."

Dr. Shurley had nothing to say to that. They stood silently for a moment before Chuck ushered Sam forward.

Unlike the quiet lobby, this part of the building was alive with sounds; voices, footsteps, and music floated down the hallway plastered with strangely motivational posters.

They passed a nurses' station encased in glass and continued onwards without pause. Sam barely had time to catch a glimpse of a male orderlie, black-haired, head lowered towards a book, before his attention was drawn by the sound of approaching footsteps.

A young woman around Sam's age appeared from a doorway. She was wearing the shapeless uniform of an inmate: grey pajama pants and t-shirt, blue slippers on her feet.

Her dark brown eyes lit up with excitement when she saw Sam and she approached, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder.

"Fresh meat," she said, her full lips curving into a smile.

"Ruby," Dr. Shurley said, "What have we talked about?"

Ruby, still eyeing Sam, replied, "Don't scare the newbies."

"Give Sam some breathing room," Dr. Shurley continued, "You know what's it's like when you first get here. It can be intimidating."

Ruby, still smiling, winked at Sam, "Catch you on the flip side."

She brushed past them and headed down the hallway without looking back.

Chuck shook his head, "She's harmless."

He led Sam further down the hallway, past rooms with closed doors and small, chicken-wire windows, and stopped at a door marked: NURSE

Chuck knocked on the door and a woman answered. She was taller than the doctor but not taller than Sam. She had curly blonde hair, blue eyes and, a sarcastic look on her face.

"Yes, Doctor?" she asked.

"I need you to process Sam," Chuck told her and the nurse looked annoyed.

"I'm on my lunch break," she complained.

"I know but he needs to be processed before we can do anything else," Chuck told her apologetically.

The nurse rolled her eyes, "Fine."

Reaching out, she grabbed Sam's arm and drew him into the small examination room that looked exactly like a normal doctor's office. There were cupboards, a sink, a table, and a desk with a computer. Medical equipment hung around the room, waiting to be used.

The nurse shoved her lunch into her bag before pulling on a pair of latex gloves, "All right, big boy, let's get this over with."

_W_

Chuck smiled when the nurse opened the door and prodded Sam out into the hallway.

"She's a little rough around the edges," Chuck explained, "But she's good at what she does. Used to be a dental hygienist but decided to change careers. We're very lucky to have her."

The young man glanced down at his new wardrobe: a white t-shirt, blue pajama pants and grey slippers. Under his arm he held a rolled up white towel containing a small assortment of toiletries.

"Let's go to your room," Dr. Shurley suggested, "You're probably tired. It's been a bit of an exciting day."

Exciting was not the word Sam would have used but he didn't argue with the doctor. Instead, he followed him down the hallway again. Chuck started chattering away as soon as they were moving, explaining meal times, free time, group therapy, as though this were not a psychiatric hospital but a boarding school. They stopped in front of a room labelled sixty-six. Sam noticed that someone had used a black marker to add a third six to the number of the room.

Chuck opened the door to reveal a rather spartan room with two single beds, two nightstands, a single wardrobe, and a small bathroom that only had a sink and toilet.

"Lights out at ten," Chuck told Sam, "But curfew's at eight. You have to be in your room at that time every night."

Sam nodded, noticing his room had a window, barred, but at least it had a view of the outside world.

Chuck smiled at Sam and exited the room, leaving the door ajar. The young man stepped further into the room, noticing that the bed closest to the door had rumpled sheets. Setting his towel on the end of the bed closest to the window, Sam wandered over to it and peered outside. Sam found himself looking at the employee parking lot.

"They didn't tell me I was getting a roommate," a voice spoke behind Sam and he turned to see a man in the doorway, somewhat older than him, with sandy hair, blue eyes and the beginnings of a blondish beard on his cheeks and chin.

Sam felt himself tense but the man smiled in a friendly way. He approached, hand held out.

"I'm Nick," he introduced himself.

Sam hesitated a moment and then shook his hand, "Sam."

"Did Dr. Shurley give you the grand tour?" Nick asked, sticking his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants.

Sam shook his head.

"C'mon then," Nick said wryly, "I'll introduce you to the family."

Sam followed his roommate into the hallway. They walked slowly, Nick setting a leisurely pace, down the corridor. They reached the nurses' station and Nick paused. The black-haired orderlie looked up.

"That's Cas," Nick explained, waving at the other man behind the glass; he didn't wave back, "He's ok. Not much of a talker though."

They continued onwards.

"Wonder where Zach is?" Nick mused to himself.

"Zach?" Sam asked.

His roommate nodded, "Cas usually works with Zach. He's been here forever and he can get a little carried away sometimes- the sense of power goes to his head, you know- so I'd stay clear of him if I was you."

Sam nodded and followed Nick down yet another hallway and stopped at an open doorway through which music and voices could be heard. A sign overhead told him that this was the Community Room.

Nick held Sam's elbow and drew him into the room but then leaned against the wall beside the door, Sam following suit as his roommate released him. The Community Room was large and square, with large- barred- windows that let in a lot of natural light. There were a couple of couches, four card tables with chairs, shelves full of books, board games, art and crafting materials, VHS tapes for the television that hung from the ceiling on a metal bracket. The music was issuing from a CD player hanging from the ceiling- and out of reach of the inmates- just like the TV.

"Do they always play Beethoven?" Sam asked Nick.

His roommate nodded, "Dr. Shurley thinks its calming or whatever. He only has Beethoven, or Bach or Chopin or some other long-dead piano player on in here."

Turning his attention to the occupants of the room, Nick crossed his arms over his chest.

Sam spied the girl he'd first met- Ruby- sitting with a group of other women at one of the card tables.

"I know her," Sam told Nick.

"Of course you've met her," Nick smiled, "She likes to be the first to size-up the new guys… or girls."

"The one with the blonde pixie cut is Meg," Nick continued, "Eve has the dark, curly hair. The redhead is Josie- but don't call her that, she insists on being called Abaddon."

Sam just nodded.

Nick's gaze left the group of women and landed on a young man with black hair and dark eyes. He was talking with a boy who couldn't be older than eighteen or so.

"That's Mike and Adam," Nick informed Sam.

"Adam's okay," he continued, "Just a messed-up kid, but I'd watch out for Mike. He has a baby-face but he has one hell of a temper."

"BALLS!" a gruff shout startled Sam and he jumped, looking around for the sound.

"Bobby," Nick smirked and pointed out an older man throwing a book onto the floor and standing up from an armchair in a huff.

Sam watched as the older man stalked out of the room, muttering a continual string of 'balls' under his breath.

The final denizen of the Community Room was a middle aged man with black hair and dark eyes, wearing a yellow crown that looked like it had come from a Christmas cracker.

"That's Fergus," Nick pointed at the man, "Thinks he's king of Hell."

Nick scratched his chin, "Well that's just about everyone."

Sam gazed around the room once again, the realization that this was his future suddenly weighing down on him with a crushing pressure. He leaned against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, you okay?" Nick asked from beside him.

Sam shook his head, "Not really."

He felt Nick's hand on his shoulder, "You'll get used to it in no time."

Sam looked up.

"I think I need to lay down," he muttered, more to himself than to his roommate.

"Let's go back," Nick told him sympathetically.

They returned to their room and Sam lay down on his bed, facing the window, tucking his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his knees. He listened as Nick used the facilities and then left the room, giving him some privacy.

Sam closed his eyes, trying desperately not to think of the events that had led up to his incarceration. Tried hard not to see the disgusted look on Dean's face when he realized what his younger brother was, what he'd done.

_W_

"Hey, Sam," the young man jumped when someone touched his shoulder and he looked up to see Nick peering down at him.

"It's dinnertime," his roommate told him.

Sam sat up and brushed his hair out of his face.

"Did I fall asleep?" he asked.

Nick nodded, "It happens."

"I'm not really hungry," Sam muttered.

"If you don't come down they're gonna wonder why," Nick told him.

Sam sighed and stood, "Lead the way."

He followed his roommate as Nick led him down the hallway, past the Community Room and into another large room that looked like a school cafeteria.

"They shove everyone in here," Nick explained, sweeping a hand to encompass the crowded room, "Since there's not many of us on this floor."

Sam peered around and saw that while a majority of the tables were occupied, some were not. He saw that, like high schoolers, some of the inmates had seemed to have formed friend groups while others ate alone.

"Better grab a tray," Nick nudged him, "You don't want to be the last in line."

Sam approached the line and grabbed a molded plastic tray with four molded compartments. Nick stood behind Sam and pointed out the orderlies standing around the perimeter of the room, keeping order.

"There's Zach," Nick pointed to a talk, balding man with a scowl on his face.

"He looks like he's a lot of fun," Sam muttered. Nick snorted.

"Naomi, Anna, Gabe, and Cas, of course," his roommate finished.

They inched forward slowly, the sound in the cafeteria deafening- chatter and laughter and also shouts and the sound of footsteps and plastic trays scraping against plastic tables, metal chair legs scraping against concrete floor- a pain beginning to throb behind Sam's eyes as a headache started.

He reached the bored-looking cafeteria worker dishing out food. Slopping a piece of what Sam hoped was meatloaf onto his tray, plopping a scoop of runny mashed potato and a spoonful of anemic green beans. A second worker, looking just as disinterested as the first, placed a spoonful of a brown, viscous liquid into the final compartment.

"Chocolate pudding," Nick whispered to Sam.

Finally Sam was handed a squat carton of milk, like the ones given to children in schools, a plastic-wrapped package of white-plastic fork, knife, spoon and a paper serviette.

"Don't forget a straw," Nick chimed in behind Sam and he grabbed one of the red, paper-wrapped straws sticking out from the Styrofoam cup on the counter.

Sam followed his roommate as Nick led the way towards an empty table in a corner. Sam sat across from his roommate and pulled the plastic off his utensils.

Nick opened his milk and poked his straw through the opening before taking a sip.

"I know," he commented, seeing Sam's expression as he peered uncertainly at his slice of meatloaf, "It already sucks to be here and the food doesn't make it much better."

"Yeah," Sam muttered.

"You'll get used to it," Nick told him and speared some beans with his fork.

Sam stuck his fork into the meat and broke off a piece, sniffing it before putting it into his mouth and chewing.

He looked up at his roommate.

"That's the worst thing I've ever eaten," he swallowed the mouthful reluctantly, "It tastes like cardboard. It's like eating sawdust."

Nick nodded, "Don't get your hopes up, Sam, the beans aren't much better."

Sam picked at the rest of the tasteless meal, completely unmotivated to finish it. The best thing about the dinner, in his opinion, was the milk, which of course, hadn't been cooked into oblivion.

After the disappointing meal, Sam and Nick returned to their room. Sam unrolled the towel he'd been given by the nurse and found a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, a plastic comb and deodorant.

Can this get anymore depressing? Sam wondered as he stared down at the assorted items.

Flopping down on his back on the bed, he closed his eyes listening idly to Nick as his roommate moved around their small room.

_W_

The smell of gasoline and blood and burning flesh coat the inside of his nostrils. He is blind except for the flickering orange and red of flames which surround him, hungrily licking at his clothes. His ears ring with the unearthly scream of a woman in agony.

"Jess!" he cries out, desperately searching.

"Jess! Where are you?"

There is no answer but for the continual cries of pain. He can't tell from what direction they are coming from.

"Jess! JESS!"

Pain, searing, burning, as the fire flares and consumes him, and still he calls out her name for as long as he can.

_W_

Sitting up, gasping for air, Sam blinks as his eyes adjust to the darkness.

It takes him a moment for him to remember where he is.

He was lying on his bed, his feet on the ground. He must have fallen asleep like that.

"Hey, are you okay?" his roommate asked from his bed. Sam lifted his gaze and saw Nick's eyes flash blue in the darkness.

"Y-Yeah," Sam muttered, "Just a nightmare."

"Not to be rude," Nick whispered, "But is this going to be a nightly thing with you? 'Cause I like my sleep."

Sam raked his bangs away from his forehead and shrugged.

"I don't know," he muttered, "Sorry for waking you."

"No worries," Nick replied.

Sam glanced down at his bed, trying to decide if he should try and go back to sleep, when Nick spoke again.

"Who's Jess?"

Sam closed his eyes.

"You don't have to say," his roommate replied quickly and Sam heard rustling as Nick sat up, "But you never said why you're here."

"You never asked," Sam muttered.

"Seemed a little inappropriate to ask you that first thing," Nick replied, "So I'm asking now- why are you in here?"

Sam didn't respond for a long minute.

"She was my girlfriend," he answered.

"Did you break up?" Nick asked, "Did you go a little crazy after she left or something?"

"She's dead," Sam corrected.

"Oh," Nick replied, "I'm sorry."

Sam looked up, "You're the first person to say that."

"Why?" his roommate asked, sounding genuinely interested to know.

"Because… because I killed her," Sam whispered.

Nick didn't say anything for a moment.

"You can say it," Sam told him, "I know you want to: I'm a monster, a murderer; I've heard it all before."

"I wasn't going to say that," Nick told him quietly.

Sam nodded.

"Is that what happened to your hands?" Nick asked. Sam looked down at his hands. He hadn't thought Nick had noticed- he hadn't said anything before. Staring at his palms, Sam could just make out the shine of scar tissue; he tried to draw his hands into fists but they didn't quite close completely.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," he muttered and laid down on his side in his bed.

_W_

"Sam? Hey, Sam? You awake?" Nick's voice wormed its way into the young man's sleeping brain and he opened his eyes.

"I am now," he muttered.

"About last night… no hard feelings?" Nick asked. Sam sat up and sighed.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Nine," Nick told him, "You missed breakfast. I didn't want to wake you."

Sam shrugged, he wasn't really hungry anyway. Glancing to his right, he saw through the window that it was a gloomy, cloudy day.

He looked up when Nick sat down beside him on his bed.

"I guess since you showed me yours, I should show you mine."

Sam wanted to tell his roommate he didn't really care why he was here but he held his tongue.

"I'm not really proud of this but… a few years ago I was out, getting drunk at some bar, while my family stayed home. I don't even know what I was thinking. Can't remember why I was out in the first place. Anyway, all that matters is that Sara and Teddy were home alone."

Sam waited as Nick spoke.

"Someone," his roommate continued, "Some guy, broke into our house to rob it and found my wife and son. Instead… instead of robbing the place he… he killed them…"

"I got home to find cops all over the place," Nick shook his head, "I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe they were gone. If I had been there instead of at a bar… well, things might have been different."

"I'm sorry," Sam muttered.

Nick laughed humourlessly, "That's not why I'm here. The cops were no help in finding the asshole who killed my family. They called it a 'Cold Case' said there was no evidence leftover, no leads. They let it go."

"But I couldn't," Nick continued, "It took a while but I finally found the son of a bitch and made him pay for what he did to my wife and baby boy."

Sam remained silent. He didn't know what he was supposed to say.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked Nick.

"All I'm trying to say is that, maybe you had your reasons," his roommate told him.

Sam shook his head, tears suddenly pricking his eyes.

"No, I didn't," Sam argued, "Jess didn't deserve what I did to her. I loved her."

He looked up at Nick, "I loved her and I killed her."

Nick put what was meant to be a comforting arm around Sam's shoulder. Sam pressed his face against his shirt, seeking the empathy his brother hadn't given him. Struggling to keep his composure, Sam told Nick what he had done.

_W_

He hated Halloween. He hated it with a passion. It only served to remind him of the day his mother died. He would never tell Jess just why he hated the holiday and she always made fun of him for it. That was all right, he could take it. As long as he never had to tell about the night his father had killed his mother.

He failed to tell Jess about the voices when they started some two months earlier- voices telling him that he needed to get rid of her or something terrible was going to happen- because he was terrified it meant he was sick, just like his father had been. He desperately tried to ignore the voices but the more he did so, the louder and more persistent they became, insisting that doom was swiftly approaching him and could be stopped by nothing else but a blood sacrifice.

Then, finally, Sam couldn't take it anymore. Only wanting the voices to stop, he did as they demanded. Two days after Halloween, he tied his girlfriend to their bed as she slept, sliced her belly with a kitchen knife before dousing her with gasoline. Believing that once Jess was dead, the voices would quiet, Sam struck the match and dropped it onto the gas-soaked bed.

Instead of being silence, the voices only screamed; louder and louder, sounding exactly like Jess, who was unable to cry out as the flames consumed her because of a pair of panties Sam had stuffed into her mouth muffled her.

Realizing he'd made a terrible mistake, Sam had tried to untie his girlfriend and save her, but he was too late. He succumbed to smoke and lost consciousness, only to wake up days later in a Palo Alto hospital bed, surrounded by police and charged with the first degree murder of Jessica Moore.

His lawyer had fought hard for him and instead of ending up in jail, plead that his client was not guilty by reason of insanity. A court psychologist backed-up the claim, deeming Sam to be a victim of paranoid schizophrenia- the same mental illness suffered by his father- and not responsible for his actions.

All throughout the proceedings, Sam had had no contact with his one remaining family member. Dean, his older brother, refused to see him, but did make it clear what he thought of his younger sibling.

When the jury made their decision and Sam looked forward to spending the rest of his life in a psychiatric hospital, Dean had been interviewed for his opinion on the subject.

Sam's brother, the man who had practically raised him, looked straight at the camera and said, "If he had any sense of decency, he'd do what our Dad did and kill himself instead of using taxpayer money to keep himself alive."

_W_

"I killed her," Sam whimpered, "I killed her and I can't take it back."

Nick put a hand on the back of Sam's head.

"Shhh," he murmured, "Shhh."

Nick started humming, stroking Sam's hair.

"I'm sorry, Jess," Sam mumbled, "I'm so sorry."

Nick, quietly, almost in a whisper, began to sing, tunelessly at first:

"We've been dancing for so long under the stars…"

Sam closed his eyes, clinging to his roommate who was willing to show him something other than disgust and hatred.

"I feel as the grass will cut through my skin…"

Nick moved to the side and eased Sam down until the younger man was lying on his bed, his roommate sitting beside him.

"…All the pills we take have seemed to prolong…"

Nick, still stroking Sam's hair, moved so that he was straddling the younger man.

"…Our existence but I don't feel alright-"

Sam looked up at his roommate, confusion shining in his wet eyes for a second before Nick put a hand over his mouth. Fear, took over confusion and Sam reacted, drawing his knees up, pushing against his roommate's chest with his hands at the same time and shoving Nick onto the floor between the two beds.

Standing shakily, Sam rushed towards the door as his roommate called after him.

Hurrying down the hallway, Sam paused only when he reach the nurses' station and hit the window, startling Cas and Zach.

"He attacked me!" Sam cried, shivering, feeling vulnerable and violated, "Nick attacked me!"

The two orderlies left the station and approached Sam. Zach reached out, but instead of lending a helping hand, he drew the younger man into a headlock.

Panicking, Sam struggled, trying to pull Zach's arm away from his neck, bent over awkwardly in the older man's hold.

"No!" Sam cried, "You don't understand. _He _attacked _me_! Let me go!"

"Calm down," Cas intoned in a gravelly voice with a strong Russian accent.

"I didn't think this one was going to be a handful, Cas," Zach grunted as Sam continued to struggle, "But I guess even I can make mistakes."

Sam caught sight of a needle in Cas' hand and began to fight harder, "No! No! Please don't! Let me go! Let me go!"

Pinned in Zach's headlock, Sam was unable to stop Cas from pulling down his pajama pants just enough to administer the drug. Sam felt the pinch of the needle and within seconds his body went limp, feeling like overcooked spaghetti. He slumped in Zach's grasp and closed his eyes as unconsciousness swept in.

_W_

Sam opened his eyes to find himself staring at the ceiling. He rolled his eyes to the left and saw Nick sitting on his bed, an apologetic expression on his face.

Sam struggled to sit up, felt dizzy and decided to stay down for the moment.

"I'm sorry about that," Nick spoke, "I talked to Chuck and they changed my meds."

"You attacked me," Sam muttered, still peering up at the tiled ceiling.

"Won't happen again," Nick said, "I promise. Scout's honour."

Sam didn't reply.

"Lunch is in ten minutes," Nick told him, "You want to walk down together?"

"No," Sam replied.

After that Nick didn't say anything else and Sam listened despondently as he left the room a few minutes later to head to the cafeteria.

He remained laying as he was until the sound of footsteps had vanished and the halls were quiet, everyone at lunch.

Sitting up, Sam no longer felt dizzy. He brushed his hair away from his forehead and rested his cheek against his knees.

_W_

"You know this isn't a good way to start of your stay here," Nick told Sam when he returned to find his roommate still sitting on his bed, staring out the window at the parking lot.

"I'm just making things interesting," Sam said, humourlessly, "Seeing as I'm going to be here for a while."

"I said I was sorry," Nick said.

Sam didn't say anything.

"Are you trying to get into trouble?" his roommate asked.

Again, Sam didn't reply.

He heard Nick sigh and leave the room.

"Hey there handsome," a female voice spoke suddenly from the other side of the room and Sam turned his head to see Ruby standing in the doorway.

"What do you want?" he muttered.

"A little birdie told me you were sad," Ruby stepped into the room, hands on her hips, "So I thought I'd come to cheer you up."

"I don't need cheering up," Sam mumbled.

"Of course you do," Ruby argued, "And I know just the thing."

She stepped forward and held out her hands to Sam. When he didn't take them, she took his instead.

"C'mon," she encouraged, "I don't bite. Hard."

She led Sam into the small bathroom and closed the door.

"Hm," she smiled, "It's nice and cozy in here."

Sam, facing the door, frowned.

"What are we doing?"

Ruby flicked her hair over her shoulder, "You can't be that naïve."

Sam just stared at her.

"Kiss me," she moaned, pouting her lips.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Kiss me," Ruby drew Sam forward in the small space until she was pressed against him.

"I told you I'd cheer you up," she told him and lifted her arms.

"Take off my shirt."

"We shouldn't be doing this," Sam argued, "We could get in trouble."

Ruby eyed him, "Don't tell me you're a sissy."

"I'm not," Sam assured her, "I just don't want to get in trouble."

"Oh come on," Ruby sighed, "What can they do to you?"

When Sam didn't answer, Ruby lifted her arms again.

"I'm not letting you out of here," she teased, "So you might as well get it over with."

Not sure why he was doing so, Sam grabbed the hem of Ruby's t-shirt and pulled it up and over her head, dropping in onto the floor. Ruby grinned up at Sam; she wasn't wearing a bra. She grabbed his arms and pressed herself against him.

"Kiss me," she ordered and Sam, again, not exactly sure why he was doing it, leaned down and pressed his lips against her.

Ruby wrapped her arms around his neck and Sam had to pick her up to keep their mouths connected. Then, she twined her legs around his waist and Sam pushed her against the bathroom door.

Suddenly, Sam looked up. Were those footsteps? What was he doing?

He bent down and lowered Ruby to the floor.

"No," she whined, not wanting to release him, "No, don't. It's nothing."

Reaching up, he grabbed her arms and pulled them away from his neck and then did the same with her legs.

"We can't be doing this," he whispered and grabbed her t-shirt from the floor.

Ruby pouted, "You're no fun."

She put the garment back on and left the bathroom. Sam waited a second and then followed, seeing Nick giving him a knowing look.

"Nothing happened," Sam muttered.

"Sure," Nick smirked.

"Nothing happened!" Sam snapped.

"Oh, by the way," Nick changed the subject, "Group is in a few minutes so we should get down there. Don't want to miss it."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Group? Group therapy?" Nick replied, "With Dr. Shurley."

Sam closed his eyes, "Great."

_W_

Sam sat on his folding chair, staring around the circle of other inmates sitting in their chairs. Nick sat beside him, arms crossed, looking decidedly bored. Ruby was sitting across from Sam, making googly-eyes at him. He did his best to ignore her.

"All right," Dr. Shurley announced, sitting in his own chair, "I'm glad to see everyone here. Now, as you might have noticed, we have a new face here with us. Say hi to Sam everyone."

"Hi Sam," came the chorus of voices.

"Good, now I want to talk about last week's homework," Chuck said, "Does anyone remember what it was?"

"Idjit," Bobby commented.

Adam raised his hand as though they were schoolchildren.

"Yes, Adam?" Chuck asked.

"You asked us to think of something that makes us really, truly happy."

"That's right," Chuck smiled. Adam beamed.

"Oh here we go," Nick muttered to Sam.

"Who wants to go first? What makes you the most happy?"

Again, Adam raised his hand.

"Anyone else?"

"Sex!" Ruby chimed in. There were mutters of agreement.

Chuck frowned, "Anything else?"

"Ruling Hell!" Fergus told them.

"Sam?" Dr. Shurley turned his attention to him, "Why don't you tell us what makes you happy?"

Several pairs of eyes turned to him and he squirmed uncomfortable with being the centre of attention.

"Uh…" he hesitated, but then he spoke, "Freedom."

Everyone was silent, no one spoke but for Bobby, who muttered, under his breath, "Balls."

_W_

Sam stared disinterestedly at his dinner: gloopy macaroni and cheese, undercooked carrots, peas and blue Jell-O. Not in the least bit hungry, he pushed the tray towards Nick.

"Maybe you should talk to Chuck about your meds," his roommate said, "Maybe they're suppressing your appetite or something?"

Sam shook his head.

_W_

Sam found it impossible to sleep that night. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to Nick snoring in the bed beside his.

After a time, his roommate woke up.

"You're still up?" Nick whispered.

Sam didn't respond.

"Do you want to talk?" Nick asked.

"No," Sam replied and rolled onto his side, facing the window.

_W_

Sam picked at his lukewarm scrambled eggs the next morning at breakfast.

"They can't even give us coffee?" he asked Nick, peering mutinously at his cup of orange juice.

Nick shrugged, smearing jam onto his toast with a plastic knife.

"You get used to it," he told Sam.

The younger man sighed, "I want to die."

_W_

Sam sat rather uncomfortably in front of Dr. Shurley's desk. Chuck sat on the other side, his expression benign.

"I wanted to see how you were adjusting," Dr. Shurley explained. Sam shrugged, "It's better than the alternative, I guess."

Chuck nodded, folding his hands.

"Positive thinking is good," he praised. Sam just looked at him.

"Have you made any friends?" Chuck asked, "Anyone you can relate to?"

Sam thought about his roommate, and about Ruby. Before he could respond, Dr. Shurley continued:

"Although I am here to help you," he told Sam, "You can also help each other as well. I'm not omnipresent you know; I'm not God."

"Ruby seems nice," Sam admitted, recalling the episode with her in the bathroom.

"And Nick," Sam added, "We talk a lot."

"Nick?" Chuck asked, "Who's Nick?"

Sam frowned, "My roommate?"

Dr. Shurley frowned, "Sam, you don't have a roommate."

"What? What do you mean? Of course I do, his name's Nick."

The doctor was shaking his head, "No Sam, you don't… all the rooms are single rooms. No one has a roommate."

A feeling of dread slid down Sam's spine, "But… But I saw him…. I talked to him. He was at group therapy! Don't you remember? You had to have seen him!"

"Now Sam," Chuck raised a hand, "If you calm down, we'll-"

"You're lying!" Sam stood, hands on the desk, "He was there! He's real!"

Chuck pressed the button on the intercom on his desk, requesting help.

"Why are you lying to me?" Sam asked Chuck.

"Sam, please, just take a breath-" the doctor began but the door burst open and Zach and Cas rushed into the room. Zach grabbed the back of Sam's neck and shoved him forward, sending him crashing onto the desk. A framed photograph of a thin woman with straight brown hair fell over and broke, glass littering the blotter.

"Watch it!" Chuck exclaimed.

Sam didn't fight. He didn't want to have another sedative.

"Cas, I don't think that's necessary," Dr. Shurley told the orderlie, "Can you just take Sam back to his room?"

"Yes doctor," Cas's voice spoke from behind Sam and Zach pulled him up.

"Don't try anything," Zach warned Sam and marched him out of the room and down the maze of hallways back to his room.

Sam staggered when he looked inside and saw that what Dr. Shurley had said was true. There was only one bed- his bed- in the room. There was no sign that Nick had ever been his roommate.

Zach released Sam and pulled the door to the room closed. The young man didn't mind. He didn't want to leave anyway. Instead, he shuffled over to his bed and sat down, back against the headboard, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs.

Once the sound of footsteps had receded down the hall, Sam opened his hand and stared at the piece of inch-long glass he'd grabbed from Chuck's broken picture.

Curling his hand around the piece of glass once again, Sam rested his head against his knees and closed his eyes.

_W_

Sam didn't leave his room for the rest of the day. Not that anyone seemed to care. No one checked in on him. But that was fine. He didn't want to see anyone, didn't want to talk to anyone.

He felt betrayed and didn't know who to direct his feelings to. Was it Dr. Shurley's fault for not giving him the right meds? Was it his lawyer's fault for getting him sent here in the first place? Was it his father's fault for passing down his mental illness to his youngest son?

Sam watched idly as the shadows grew longer and the light grew more dim, darkness encroaching.

There was a knock on the door and Sam looked up, surprised to see Ruby looking into the room.

"Haven't seen you all day," she said quietly, "Are you okay?"

Sam shook his head.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"I don't know," Sam replied.

Ruby eased the door closed and approached Sam's bed.

"If you don't want to talk we can do something else," the smiled and sat down beside Sam.

She reached out and put a hand on the side of his face.

"We could finish what we started in the bathroom."

Remembering the piece of glass in his fist, Sam thought; if Nick wasn't real, maybe she's not either.

Ruby closed her eyes, pouted her lips, leaning forwards, ready for a kiss.

Sam moved quickly and silently, swiping the shard of glass against Ruby's bare neck. Her eyes sprang open as a red necklace appeared against her throat, her hands flying up to the wound, her breath gurgling. Blood seeped down her neck to stain her shirt, splattering Sam with its warmth.

The girl wheezed and fell backwards off the bed, crashing to the floor, a red pool quickly growing beneath her.

Sam peered down at Ruby, waiting for… well, waiting for some sign that she had simply been a figment of his diseased imagination.

Nothing happened.

Oh God… Sam thought, staring at the piece of bloodstained glass in his hand, Not again.

Slowly, he rose from the other side of the bed, careful not to step in the blood and crossed the room. He opened the door, stepped into the hall, and closed the door behind him. It was late and all the inmates should be in their rooms, awaiting lights out.

Sam walked down the hallway, feeling like a sleepwalker, stopping in front of the nurses' station, peering at his reflection in the glass: his eyes surrounded by dark circles, his hair tangled, his t-shirt spattered with blood.

For a second, the two orderlies stared at him, uncomprehending, and then they sprang into action.

Sam raised his hands to show he had no desire to fight but still Zach slammed him against the glass window of the nurses' station, still his arms were wrenched behind his back painfully, the orderlie demanding to know what he'd done.

Sam welcomed the sting of the needle and the encroaching darkness- maybe this time he wouldn't wake up- and closed his eyes as consciousness was swept away.

_W_

The first thing Sam became aware of was sound. Someone, close by, was singing, somewhat tunelessly.

"…I would rather be alone with you… Every time I speak I feel myself fall…"

Sam tried to move but found himself unable to. Slowly, reluctantly, he peeled his eyes open to find himself staring at a white, padded wall.

"…Do you wish to find the truth in my lies…"

The voice continued to sing. Sam tried to move his arms, to brush his hair away from his face but they were pinned, crossed over his chest and, looking down, he realized why. He was wearing a straightjacket.

"…Sorry darlin' there's no truth here… No…"

"Wh-Where am I?" Sam asked. Someone had propped him up against the slightly yielding, padded wall, legs out in front of him, slippered feet sticking up.

"…It's just the two of us, my dear…" Nick's voice continued.

Sam turned his head to see his roommate sitting beside him, legs drawn up, forearms resting on his knees.

"…Listen to me don't you hear…"

"You're not real," Sam ground out, "You're not."

Nick ignored him, smiling, he continued singing.

"…I only fell for you…"

Sam squeezed his eyes shut as if he could make the other man vanish by refusing to look at him.

"…I only fell for you, baby…"

Nick laughed.

"It's just the two of us, Sam."

**Author's Note:**

**Just a story I thought of last night. **

**The lyrics in the story are not mine by come from a song called 'Sunflower Feelings' by Kuzu Mellow.**

**Please take a moment to leave a review if you enjoyed. **


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